This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

Conflict pushes inner buttons to make me feel like child in trouble
Liberal NPR, PBS? Why should tax money pay to influence culture?
Don’t blame politicians; you’re to blame for growth of government
How can I make sense of a world that’s fundamentally nonsensical?
If you’re out of place somewhere, nobody’s going to be very happy
Youth and death are bookends pointing toward truth between
Emotions such as fear, anger cause distraction, make focus difficult
We often act like madmen who’re eagerly bent on self-destruction
Want to return to a simpler world? Say ‘goodbye’ to cheeseburgers